We Suit Each Other Admirably
by Eliza Lighton
Summary: Following the trace of an alien parasite, the Doctor and Clara happen upon a small hospital in the midst of a minor crisis. Can they stop the parasite and save the hospital while figuring out the basics of their own relationship? T for minor zombie-like action...ish... to be on the safe side.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I claim no right to Doctor Who. This is one of my first non-AU original stories with a couple of original characters. Now, I normally don't ask for reviews (although I love them and you), but I'm extremely open to comments on this. Help a girl?**

Sam sat at her usual table in the back of the hospital cafeteria finishing her horribly dry turkey sandwich and the last minutes of her break. She grimaced. She hated turkey and began to wonder why she had made this specific lunch choice. That is, until she was broken out of her thoughts when the doors to the cafeteria burst open, a man in a long navy coat and a much younger woman slamming the doors shut behind them.

"Clara!" the man pointed. "Look back there and find something to brace the door."

"Got it!" the woman named Clara responded. She rushed behind the counter, locating the janitor's closet behind it. She grabbed a broom. "Will this work?"

The man nodded, holding out his hand. "It'll make due for now." Clara tossed him the broom and the man stuck the broom through the door handles.

Sam watched in a stunned silence from her corner. They hadn't noticed her yet, and Sam was still deciding if that was a good thing or not. She put down the rest of her offensive sandwich.

The younger of the strange pair must have noticed her movement. She tapped her companion on the shoulder. "Doctor," she whispered. "We're not alone. There's someone in the corner."

In the time it took Sam to blink, the man had made his way across the cafeteria. He stopped within, in Sam's opinion, the boundary of normal personal space, his wide eyes peering into hers. He pulled a metal appliance from his coat and waved it at her. Sam squinted at the bright green light from the tool as he brought it near her face.

"Who are you?" the man growled, his Scottish brogue making the situation all the more intense.

Sam stood to her tallest, even though her eyes only met his chin, and she pulled her shoulders back. "Dr. Samantha Pryor. And since you're in my hospital, who the hell are you?" She reached up and pushed his tool out of her face. "And what are you doing with that?"

The young woman chuckled from the man's left shoulder. "I like her."

The man called the Doctor grumbled and took a step back. He looked at his tool, as if checking a thermometer reading, before placing it in a pocket. "I'm the Doctor, this is Clara. Your hospital, as you call it, is in grave danger."

Sam crossed her arms. "Doctor who?"

Clara stepped forward, hand extended to Sam. "Just the Doctor. He likes being mysterious. Hi, I'm Clara Oswald."

Sam slowly shook her hand. "So, he's Scottish and you're English?"

"And you're American and we're in America," the Doctor interjected harshly. "Did you happen to miss the part where I said your hospital is in danger?"

"Ok, what's going on? Why's it in danger?"

"Have you had any unusual incidents? Any strange patients? We noticed on our way in someone mentioned a body had gone missing."

"Doctor," Clara said in a disapproving tone."

"We may have listened in on some security officers, but semantics."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "No, not that I'm aware of… wait, what do you mean, strange?"

"Anything."

"A colleague did tell me a patient of his had been acting strangely a day or so ago, but I'm afraid I don't know exact details about it."

"How strange?" Clara asked.

"Erratic behavior, low blood pressure, and his eyes…"

"What about his eyes?" the Doctor asked.

Sam shrugged. "Umm, John said that they were yellow and red."

The Doctor bent down to look into her eyes. "Now this is very important, Dr. Pryor. What happened to this patient?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask. What's this about?"

Clara and the Doctor shared a look. The Doctor turned back to Sam. "Those symptoms match exactly a species of unparalleled danger to yours. A parasitic alien that slowly invades and has the potential to wipe out the host species. We've been tracking its signature for awhile now and guess what? You're its first stop."

Sam was silent for a moment, and then she burst out laughing. Brushing her auburn hair out of her eyes, she stared incredulously at the Doctor and Clara. "Aliens?! You actually expect me to believe that aliens are invading this hospital? This tiny hospital in the middle of nowhere?" The Doctor scoffed and rolled his eyes as she paused for breath. Then something clicked in Sam's mind. "Hang on, you said 'your species'. What, are you supposed to be an alien too?" When the only response she received was a raised eyebrow, she turned to Clara, pointing at the Doctor. "Is he for real?"

Clara simply nodded.

With a sharp nod, Sam looked warily back at the Doctor. "Saying I believe you, which I'm not saying I do at the moment, but if I did and what you're saying is true, what would this parasite want with cadavers? I'm assuming you're going to say this has something to do with that missing body you eavesdropped about earlier."

For the first time, a somewhat pleasant look crossed the Doctor's face. He flipped back the corners of his coat back to put his hands in his pockets, flashing a bit of a red liner. "You're right, Clara. She may be a clever one. Once the parasite has taken over a living being, it's food source is the bodies of the host species' dead."

Sam pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "So what do we do?"

"We, Dr. Pryor, are going zombie hunting."


	2. Chapter 2

The front desk of the hospital was in chaos. As Sam, the Doctor, and Clara approached the desk they were surrounded by security.

"What did you do?"

The Doctor had the decency to look a little sheepish. "We may have run off after inquiring about the missing body."

"I don't even know you, but that wouldn't surprise me." She pulled her badge from her white coat and showed it to the guards. "Its fine, they're with me."

"Are you sure, doctor? Another body's gone missing. Can you account for their whereabouts for the past twenty minutes?"

"Carl, I assure you. They have not been to the morgue." The guard nodded and motioned for the rest of his group to back off. "Thanks."

She greeted Parker, the on duty nurse at the desk. He updated Sam on the situation while eyeing the Doctor suspiciously. "Doc, it just disappeared. Dr. Carney went on his break and came up here to chat, but when he went back downstairs, the body was just… gone."

Sam turned to the Doctor. "You're taking the lead, Doctor. What do we do?"

"I need to see the morgue. If this pudding brain," he indicated Parker ("Hey!), "would have let me down there without alerting what passes for security, we'd hav-"

Clara clamped her hand over the Doctor's mouth. "May we see the morgue please, Dr. Pryor? Doctor, shut up."

Sam fought back a smile. "I'll take you down." She turned to Parker. "Can you page Dr. Johns and have him meet us down there as soon as he can? Thanks."

"Sure thing, doc."

As they made their way down the flight of stairs to the basement morgue, Sam observed the Doctor and Clara as much as she could leading the way. They whispered furiously at each other, and Sam strained to hear enough to glimpse that the Doctor had done something Clara did not approve of. But the thing that struck Sam the hardest was how it seemed there was a gravity between the two pulling them together and that they seemed to be fighting it as much as their counterpart.

They were as opposite as could be, the Doctor and Clara, as first impressions go. Clara, the more rational, was very young and very small. She appeared to be about five or so years younger than Sam and about as many inches shorter if it weren't for her heeled boots. The Doctor, on the other hand, towered over the both of them and appeared to be in his mid-fifties, although his behavior at times reminded her of a five year old. His eyes belayed years of experience and Sam could guess that not all had been pleasant.

Their argument apparently over, Clara drifted forward to walk with Sam.

"So Clara," Sam began.

"How'd I end up with the Doctor?" Clara's eyes twinkled. "I get asked that a lot."

"Was he a professor or something like that? It's just the two of you…don't match."

Clara laughed. "Oh no, nothing like that. He just sort of fell out of the sky, and really that's a surprisingly accurate description. He solved a mystery of sorts near my home and I just stuck with him."

"Is he really an- an alien? He looks so human."

A muttered grumble of "I don't look human! You look Time Lord" came from behind them.

"Be nice, Doctor! He can be a bit touchy at times. But yeah, he really is a 2,000 year old alien man-child with a time machine."

"A time machine?!"

Clara nodded. Sam blinked in bewilderment as they approached the doors to the morgue, where she was prevented from saying anything else. She flashed her badge at the security guard at the door before leading the Doctor and Clara through.

Dr. Carney, the coroner, sat on a stool in a dark corner. He was a frail older man, a particular favorite of Sam's, nearing retirement. Sam could tell he was taking this matter to heart.

"George?" she called softly. "George, you okay?"

"Oh Sam," he sighed. "Sam, forty years I've been doing this job. Forty years, and I have never lost a body, and now, in three days I've lost two."

"George, it's not your fault. No one thinks it is either." She crossed the room and put her arm around the older doctor. "George, I've brought some people who are going to help us figure out what's going on."

That statement seemed to stir him out of his stupor. Dr. Carney stood and straightened his jacket, shaking the Doctor and Clara's hands in turn as Sam introduced them.

"Doctor, why are we down here?" Clara asked as he began waving his tool around the room. "I mean, we know they eat," she shuddered, "the dead, so why are we here?"

The Doctor paused his work to look at her, all previous arguments apparently forgotten. "If the sonic can catch a trace of the parasite, I can lock onto its signature and we might be able to trace it."

Sam was confused. "Sorry, what's a sonic? Is it that tool thingy?"

"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor waved it at her as he passed by, scanning the room. "It can scan biological signs, unlock things. Basically your all around multitool, but better because it's sonic. AH HA!" He ran over to an autopsy table. "Gotcha!"

Dr. Carney cleared his throat. "That's the table where the body went missing today."

"Autopsy table turned dinner table," a deep voice boomed from the door. A tall, dark skinned man strolled through the room over to Sam and Dr. Carney. "I see you've found the cause of the disruption upstairs, Sam."

"Yeah, just a bit of a misunderstanding. This is the Doctor and Clara. They actually have a few questions for you, John, about that weird patient you had the other day? Doctor, this is my colleague, Dr. Kamwimbile Johns."

"Tell me about your patient."

"Well, he was a man in his late forties, claiming to be suffering from intense physical pain and migraines. His behavior was erratic, he was running and throwing things, but once he was finally restrained, his blood pressure readings were barely readable they were so low. But the thing that really caught my eye were his. The sclerae were bright yellow and his irises were scarlet with a ring of white in the center. Wait, are you trying to say that this man ate the missing body?"

Clara narrowed her eyes. "Hang on, how did you know about the body being eaten?"

"You mentioned it to him," John pointed at the Doctor. "I was here for a while."

Sam quickly filled in John about the parasite, to which he had a similar reaction. "John, what did you do with your patient?"

"I sent him to observation. With his blood pressure, I couldn't give him a sedative, but with his behavior…"

"You couldn't very well let him go. Good decision, Doctor, you may have either saved us or doomed us all." The Doctor put his hands in his pockets, flashing the red lining again. "Take me to him."

"That doesn't sound ominous at all," Dr. Johns muttered. "He's on the third floor. Follow me."


	3. Chapter 3

It was a fairly silent journey to the observation area on the third floor. Dr. Johns and Sam kept glancing at each other, holding silent conversation. Following behind in a similar silence, the Doctor scanned the stairwell for traces of the alien parasite with Clara close behind.

John leaned over to Sam. "Is he for real?" he whispered.

Sam shrugged slightly. "I hope so."

Silence once again reigned for another floor and a half. John began inquiring more about the Doctor, but Sam shushed him as Clara began to whisper to the Doctor behind them.

"Are you going to ignore me for the rest of the night?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not ignoring you."

Clara scoffed. "Oh really? Then why aren't you speaking to me?"

"Is that not what we're doing right now? Speaking?"

Clara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ugh, you are so frustrating. You've barely spoken to me at all this trip and you've only spoken to me once since we left the TARDIS. I'm not trying to be needy, really not." She huffed out a sigh. "What I'm trying to understand is why you're upset with me and what I can do to fix it. And don't say you're not upset with me, Doctor, I can read it in your eyes."

The Doctor forced a laugh. "You can read it in my eyes, now? Can you read emotions in date-man's eyes, too?"

"Is that what this is about? The fact that I'm trying to get on with my life after you told me to?"

The Doctor scoffed. "I couldn't really care less about what you get into when we don't travel together."

"So what is it then?"

"I really don't know what you're talking about, Clara."

Clara crossed her arms and surged ahead of the Doctor. "Fine."

As the four entered the third floor and neared the observation area, the floor and desk were eerily empty. John mentioned that was strange, setting off to locate the duty nurse of the ward.

Clara glanced at the clock behind the desk. "It is after ten at night. Isn't that late?"

Sam shook her head. "Still, there should be staff on this floor, here in particular. These patients must be monitored constantly." She shrugged off her lab coat, sitting in the desk's chair. Sam pulled the computer keyboard to her and began typing. "We have cameras in this ward to help the duty nurses observe each room. It looks like there are two rooms with men matching our guy's description. Room 304," she pointed at a screen, "that behavior look erratic to you?"

The screen showed a man strapped to his bed, thrashing against his bonds. He appeared to be sneering at the camera.

Dr. Johns ran back to the desk. "You, uh, you need to see this."

He led them to a room in the corner of the corridor. Through the small window of the door, Sam could see a pale body in the bed surrounded by a puddle of blood. And then she caught a glimpse of something below the corpse, or someone rather. Someone wearing blue scrubs.

"Is that… Anna?" she whispered hoarsely.

Anna, the duty nurse, was gnawing on the arm of the corpse, who appeared to have been dead for a while. They watched in silent horror until Anna looked up from the body. Her yellow and red eyes locked with Sam's hazel before she let out a guttural scream and rushed the slightly open door. She got as much of her arm out before John pulled Sam back. Clara fought to shove the nurse's arm back and the Doctor slammed the door shut, using his sonic screwdriver to lock the door.

John pulled Sam into a tight hug before checking her over. "Are you alright?" She nodded and leaned into his embrace.

"The door is locked from the outside. She can't get out now." The Doctor pocketed the sonic and began walking back towards the desk.

"Wait!"

He paused.

"Is she going to be okay? Is there a cure for this parasite thing?"

"It's possible."

Sam blinked, pulling away from John. "It's possible?! We have to fix this. She has two children for God's sake!"

The Doctor paced slowly back to Sam. "The only time, and I'm very serious, the only time I've heard of a hint of a possibility of a cure, it was synthesized from the blood of a recently infected body in a facility far more advanced than this pathetic excuse for a hospital. Your friend there is too far gone to allow that. What would you have me do?"

"Do something! What else are you going to do? Just quarantine this hospital for the rest of time?"

"Quarantining and starving those already infected are our best shot right now." He stopped at the sound of something slamming against the wall. He turned to the noise and found Clara pulling her fist out of the sheet rock. "Clara?"

Clara stared at her fist. "Now you're going to talk to me? I have to slam my hand through a wall to get the mighty Time Lord's attention?" She chuckled a horrible, hollow sound.

The Doctor took a step towards his companion. "Clara, look at me."

"You're just going to let these people die and make it easier for the parasite." She punched the wall again.

"Clara?" His voice was the softest Sam had heard since she met him, almost fond with a tinge of fear. "Clara, look at me please?"

Clara pulled her fist out of the wall once more before slowly turning her head to look at the Doctor. She blinked slowly, her eyes yellowing quickly.

"Oh Clara," the Doctor whispered. He bent to lean on the wall. "What have I done? Oh Clara."

Sam moved forward, putting a hand carefully on his arm. "We need to get her secured before it gets worse." She looked back at Dr. Johns.

He approached Clara as if approaching a startled horse. "You've been infected, Clara. We need to get you into a room quickly."

"I know." She headed into the nearest available room, where John strapped her to the bed. "I think the nurse scratched me."

Johns carefully examined Clara's left arm. There were three bloody scratches running down her arm. "I'm going to draw some blood, Clara. Is that ok?"

She nodded. John prepared a vial and moved to her arm. She lunged as he neared, but apologized, regaining control long enough to allow Johns three vials of blood. Clara began violently thrashing as he left the room, the Doctor locking the door behind him.

The Doctor allowed himself a moment to mourn for his companion, watching her through the small window. After a moment, he collected himself and turned to Sam and Dr. Johns. "We need to close off this floor."

John nodded and handed the vials to Sam. "I'll stay. You take these and find a cure."

The Doctor nodded. "We've got to get to the Tardis."

Sam nodded. "Okay. What's a Tardis?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long since the last update. Can we pretend that the last couple of episodes didn't exist? My poor shipper heart is broken. And thank you to those who reviewed. I appreciate it.**

The Doctor led Sam through a maze of hallways to a small storeroom off the lobby of the hospital. There was barely enough room for the door to open and shut behind them. Half of the length of the room and most of the width had been blocked by what looked like a cupboard, painted bright blue. The top of the box read "police public call box". Sam fixed the Doctor with a confused stare.

"This," he said with a small grin and a carefully laid hand, "is the Tardis. It's my ship."

"Ship? It's a box!"

"It's the most powerful ship in the universe. It's only disguised as a box."

Sam raised an eyebrow and the Doctor rolled his eyes in response, pushing open the door to the box and stepping in. She followed him hesitantly until she saw a huge room, far larger than should fit the size of the box. There were books stacked neatly on every staircase for the three levels of the room she could see and a huge column of orange light in the center of the main level. Steam spurted out of vents in the metal floor. Sam blinked in wonder and then gave her head a small shake.

"Okay, Doctor. Where's your lab?"

"Wh- That's it?" His face looked puzzled. "Most people comment on the size."

"I promise to be properly amazed for you later. First," she pulled the vials of Clara's blood out of her pocket, "we have work to do."

Once more through a maze of hallways, the Doctor led Sam towards the Tardis laboratory. Sam's frantic mind slowly became more calm the further they went, as if a warm blanket was put around her on a cold night. And then she saw the lab, gleaming white and pristine. The Doctor snorted.

"She likes you."

"Who does?" Sam asked.

"The Tardis. She's cleaned up." He beckoned her over and took the vials from her hands. He quickly got to work leaving Sam to wander around the lab.

"You talk as if the ship's alive."

He flipped some switches on a large machine that looked like an advanced mass spectrometer. "She is a living, sentient being. She was trying to comfort you earlier."

"That warm feeling, that was her?"

He nodded, continuing with his work. Sam left him alone for a few minutes before speaking again.

"Is there anything I can do?" He glanced up at her. "I feel useless just sitting here. I'm a doctor, not a-" She was interrupted by several machines dinging.

"Well, doctor, you can come over here and give me a second opinion on these results."

Sam hopped off of a stool she'd sat on and went to the computer screen beside him. The screen displayed circles and dots. "What is that? I don't understand."

The Doctor scoffed and looked at the screen. "Oh, sorry. Is that better?" He typed something into the keyboard and the circles turned into English.

"Yeah. What was that?"

"My language." He pulled a pair of thick rimmed glasses from his coat and put them on, peering closer at the screen. "Hmm. What do you make of that?" He pointed at a set of results.

"It's something in the bloodstream. Like an infection." She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face and pointed at something on a slide. "What is that?"

The Doctor typed something into the keyboard and the picture zoomed in. "There's something attached to the red blood cell." He looked at Sam with a glint in his eye. "I think we've found our parasite."

Sam slapped his arm, laughing. "Well then! Let's get started on a vaccine. You can make a vaccine, right?"

The Doctor pulled out a needle and drew blood from the remaining vial. "The Tardis should be able to whip something up." He took the needle and ran to the other side of the lab, where he injected it into a port on the wall. "And now we wait."

They waited for a little over an hour before the Tardis provided them with a four small vials of a clear liquid. The computer screen bore the injection instructions. The patient was to be injected once an hour with a small amount of the vaccine for four hours. Then they'd be treated for a typical blood infection with antivirals and steroids to build strength.

Sam pocketed the vials and looked at the Doctor. "Should we test this? What if it makes them worse?"

"It's the risk we have to take."

He led her back out of the Tardis and together, they made their way back to the observation ward on the third floor. When they approached the desk, it was empty. John was nowhere to be found. She ran to the three rooms with the infected but John was nowhere to be found.

Sam flew into a panic. "John! John, where are you? Doctor, we have to find him!"

The Doctor gave her a cold look. "I have to save Clara. Give me the vials."

"But, John can help us. We have to find him."

The Doctor grabbed her roughly by the arm. "Forget about your boyfriend. Give me the vials."

Sam gasped and slapped him across the face. "Don't you ever touch me like that again, Doctor." Prying her arm free, she reached into her pocket and grabbed the vials. She slapped them into the hand that had bruised her arm. "Take the damn vials, then. I thought the cardinal rule of being a doctor was 'do no harm', or maybe they got that wrong in medical school," she sneered at him.

The Doctor took the vials and rushed into Clara's room. Sam ran and tore the desk phone from its rest. She hastily pushed numbers down. "Please pick up, please pick up…" she muttered over and over. She received no response for three calls.

The elevator door pinged. She slammed the phone back to the desk in frustration and tried to collect herself. Sam looked up, and in relief, recognized John and ran to him. She threw her arms around his neck and tried not to cry, before pulling back and punching him in the arm.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" she screeched.

He rubbed his arm. "I had a page from downstairs so I turned the volume down. A patient needed me for release papers. I left a note!"

"No you didn't."

John smiled sheepishly. "I meant to?"

She punched him again. "The Doctor refused to help me look for you, but we found a potential vaccine." She quickly filled him in as the Doctor left Clara's room.

"I gave her the first dose. I expect, by the amount we were given, you should have some left to synthesize more if needed." The Doctor placed a vial on the counter.

"Where's the rest of it?" Sam asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

The Doctor held out his other hand. "Right here, ready for the other patients. I see you found your boyfriend."

Sam grabbed the vials from him. "He's not my boyfriend. And yes, I did. No thanks to you. How is she?"

"She's unconscious. I think the vaccine has a sedative in it. Put the body in a reparative sleep while it kills the parasite."

"Let's test your theory."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: School...ugh. Sorry for the long absence. Now, this story was planned out pre-finale so things are a little AU, but we can pretend it's one of the offscreen adventures, yeah? Final chapter!**

Clara's eyes fluttered open and immediately she shut them. The lights were too bright, making the headache she realized she had even worse. She tried to raise her right arm to press her temples, but the arm wouldn't budge. She was restrained. Clara opened her eyes to slits, groaning once again at the light, and observed her surroundings. A pristine white room, a hospital bed, and wires coming from her chest to a heart monitor. That's right, the hospital.

The door opened and Dr. Pryor entered. She checked the monitor read out and scribbled a note in a clipboard attached to Clara's bed. A smile graced her face when she noticed Clara's eyes.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Clara. Are the lights too bright?" At Clara's nod, she flipped a switch on the wall and the lights dimmed considerably. "Better?"

"Yeah," Clara rasped. She cleared her throat with a grimace. Sam held up a finger and moved to get Clara a glass of water. She tilted Clara's head and Clara drained the cup.

"How long was I out?"

Sam put her hands in her pockets. "A couple of days. All traces of the parasite are out of your system and I think you'll be able to be released tomorrow. It drained you, and you need rest. If I release these," she indicated Clara's restraints, "will you rest?"

Clara scoffed. "I don't think I'd have the energy to do anything else. Where's the Doctor?"

Sam chuckled. "Probably tinkering with more of my equipment. I'll let him know you're conscious, and I'll come back later to do a proper check up on you."

"Thank you, Doctor." She was asleep by the time Sam left the room.

Sam found the Doctor sitting at the observation desk, noting that all the screens were on Clara's room. She cleared her throat to announce her presence. The Doctor hit a button and all the screens returned to normal. He spun in his chair as she walked towards him.

"What's up, Doc?" she asked. He narrowed his eyes at her and she laughed.

"Just checking on things. You know, I think I could improve your monitoring system. There's a hospital in New New New New… I forget how many news, doesn't matter, New York that-"

"She's going to be fine, Doctor."

"Of course she is. Never had a doubt."

Sam smiled softly. "She woke for a bit. You should go sit with her. I'm sure she'd like to see you when she wakes up again."

The Doctor waved his hand, as if to dismiss her. "I could be more useful out here. The monitors, for instance."

Sam pushed the Doctor up, out of his chair. "Go. And stay away from my equipment. I don't care about New times infinity York's monitors, I like mine just fine."

"She- she wants to see me? She said that?"

"Call it woman's intuition. Go."

The Doctor stayed in Clara's room for what seemed like an eternity. Honestly, he had scanned her with the sonic at least six times, paced the room at least twenty times, and intermittently sat at Clara's bedside for what should have been hours. In actuality, it had been about thirty minutes before Clara started to wake again.

Clara's eyes fluttered open once more, and thankfully the headache had eased a bit. The lights were still dimmed, but she could still discern the Doctor's red rimmed eyes. Beyond that, his face betrayed no emotion.

He sat back in his chair, the perfect image of nonchalance and pressed his fingertips together. "About time you woke up. Were you just going to laze about all day? There's work to be done."

Clara raised herself up a bit in bed and attempted a smile. "Sorry, been a bit busy fighting an alien parasite and all."

The corner of his mouth betrayed his relief and he leaned towards her. "You're forgiven. You did save this hospital and stop an alien invasion."

"You were worried."

The Doctor froze for a millisecond, before schooling his expression into one of carelessness. "I was, now I'm not."

"You're lying."

He pursed his lips. "And what makes you say that?"

"Get your eyes under control, Doctor. Those big, sad eyes always give you away."

And with that, the Doctor's resolve crumpled along with his posture. His face fell, and Clara could swear that she was looking at a small child rather than a two thousand year old alien.

"Doctor, what is it?"

He raised a hand and hesitantly placed it on her own. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered. "I didn't keep you safe."

"That wasn't your fault. Any one of us could have gotten scratched." She placed her free hand over their joined hands. "I knew what I was signing up for when I joined you, Doctor."

"I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"PE was right, I've risked your life one too many times. For my own selfish gain, a sense of pride… This has to stop."

"Stop?" Clara whispered.

"When you're well enough, I'm taking you home." The Doctor attempted to extract his hand, but Clara held on tightly.

"How dare you?" she whispered. "How DARE you? The great Time Lord gets to decide what happens from here. Do I not get a choice? Look at me, Doctor. Look at me!" Clara couldn't help her voice raising. She tugged on his hand until he met her eyes. "I decide when I'm finished, not you. After everything, the cannibal droids, going inside the dalek, the moon? Why now is it too much for you?"

The Doctor searched for the right words. "I tried to let you go, for your own good. I tried to keep my distance. Let you prove yourself time and again, prove to myself that you could handle things on your own and…" He sat his head on the edge of the bed.

Clara ran a hand over the top of his head then brought it to his cheek, easing it up to look at her. "And what?"

"And I realized that I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you. You almost died, Clara! So before I can finish the job, I'm taking you home."

"The hell you are. Like you said, you need me. Didn't you realize that I need you too? Like you said, I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you." She smiled at him. "You're an idiot."

"I know." He chuckled and glanced at the ceiling before meeting her eyes. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"You're the boss."


End file.
